“Why did you ask me if I was a Berliner?” I resumed.
“Because in such a case it would be necessary for me to leave you.”
“That sounds like a riddle.”
“Not in the least, when I tell you that I—that I am a composer.”
“I have no idea of your meaning.”
“Well then excuse me for my exclamation just now. I see that you understand yourself thoroughly and nothing of Berlin and Berliners.”
He rose and walked once hastily up and down; then went to the window, and in a scarcely audible voice hummed the chorus of Priestesses from the Iphigenia in Tauris, while at intervals he struck upon the window at the entrance of the Tutti. To my great astonishment I observed that he made several modifications of the melody, which struck me with their power and originality. I let him go on without interruption. He finished and returned to his seat. Surprised by the extraordinary bearing of the man, and by this fantastic expression of his singular musical talent—I remained silent. After some time he began—
“Have you never composed?”
“Yes, I have made some attempts in the art; only I found that all which seemed to me to have been written at inspired moments, became afterwards flat and tedious; so that I let it alone.”
“You have done wrong: for the mere fact of your having made the attempt is no small proof of your talent. We learn music when we are children, because papa and mamma will have it so; now you go to work jingling and fiddling, but imperceptibly the mind becomes susceptible to music. Perhaps the half-forgotten theme of the little song, which you formerly sang, was the first original thought, and from this embryo, nourished laboriously by foreign powers, grows a giant, who consumes all within his reach, and changes all into his own flesh and blood! Ah, how is it possible to point out the innumerable influences which lead a man to compose. There is a broad high-way, where all are hurrying round and shouting and screaming; we are the initiated! we are at the goal! Only through the ivory door is there entrance to the land of dreams; few ever see the door and still fewer pass through it. All seems strange here. Wild forms move hither and thither and each has a certain character—one more than the others. They are never seen in the high-way; they only can be found behind the ivory door. It is difficult to come out of this kingdom. Monsters besiege the way as before the Castle of Alsinens—they twirl—they twist. Many dream their dream in the Kingdom of Dreams,—they dissolve in dreams,—they cast no more shadows—otherwise by means of their shadows they would perceive the rays which pass through this realm; only a few awakened out of this dream, walk about and stride through the Kingdom of Dreams—they come to Truth. This is the highest moment;—the union with the eternal and unspeakable! It is the triple tone, from which the accords, like stars, shoot down and spin around you with threads of fire. You lie there like a chrysalis in the fire, until the Psyche soars up to the sun.”